


can't train a moth

by LuckyDiceKirby



Category: The Serpent Gates - A. K. Larkwood
Genre: M/M, local worst elf makes the worst choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyDiceKirby/pseuds/LuckyDiceKirby
Summary: “Come here, Talasseres,” said Sethennai. And Tal turned to him like whatever bullshit people said about flowers and the sun, inching closer, uncertain what the game was. He didn’t like being uncertain around Sethennai; it left too much room for failure.Sethennai put a hand on his elbow, and Tal stopped breathing.It was—annoying, and pathetic, that Sethennai could do this to him so easily. Early on, during the first year of his service, Tal had allowed himself to think that it wasn’t on purpose. Not in a kindly way, it was never that with Sethennai, but simply that surely it was beneath his notice, what it did to Tal’s heartbeat when Sethennai looked at him in a particular way. Looked at him at all, really.
Relationships: Talasseres Charossa/Belthandros Sethennai
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21





	can't train a moth

**Author's Note:**

> i read the unspoken name and was like "is there any horrible tal/belthandros fic" and there was not and thus i do my best to remedy this lack. what an awful elf. what an AWFUL crush.

Tonight was going spectacularly well, a rare enough occurrence that Talasseres Charossa was planning to savor it. The job he’d just returned from had been easy, and he hadn’t even needed Csorwe’s help to do it. On some level it seemed to amuse Sethennai to stick them together, like watching two favorite cats swipe at each other. Tal prefered to amuse Sethennai all on his own. And he had. He’d been sent to dispose of an asset of Sethennai’s who’d had the poor sense to land in prison in a nasty little city just outside the Peacock Gate, a tricky bit of business that played to all of Tal’s strengths: a head for bribes, a complete and utter lack of qualms, and a perfect sense for knowing when to run like hell. Also, being good with a knife.

He’d returned triumphant this afternoon, ready to deliver his success wrapped up in a succinct, pithy anecdote, and Sethennai chuckled once and gave him one of his warmest smiles. This was already enough for Tal to bask in for days. And then Sethennai took a step closer, wiped a speck of blood from Tal’s collar, and invited him to share a drink after dinner. Tal agreed as if this was nothing to him, a pleasant evening’s diversion, and then spent an hour in his room trying on different shirts.

It was good resin-wine too, not that Tal could really tell the difference. Wine didn’t interest him. He didn’t even think it really interested Sethannai, the way that so many odds and ends and luxuries did. It was just something he used to bestow favor or insult upon guests. Tal had watched him do it; he’d seen his own mother wrinkle her nose at the subtle rudeness of whatever subpar glass Sethennai poured her, which she was then obliged to drink. 

But Tal was drinking what he understood was a very good wine. In his opinion it was alright, if you liked your wine so dry you could set fire to it. Still, he savored every sip. He only ever drank this wine when Sethennai was very pleased with him; and Csorwe never drank it at all, because she preferred beer.

They were in Sethennai’s private study, the one attached to his bedroom and furnished all in dark woods and darker fabrics. They weren’t discussing the job. Sethennai didn’t care about any of the inelegant details as long as the thing got done, and done well. Instead, Sethennai was talking about some bit of political maneuvering he was in the middle of, which frankly Tal didn’t give a drunk rat’s ass about. But he liked the cunning expression Sethennai wore while he spoke about grinding someone’s reputation into the dirt, the way his fingers curled in the air and around his wine glass, and the pleased look about the eyes he got when Tal laughed in all the right places. 

This was the kind of night Tal dreamed about. He was already dreading that it would have to end, and tomorrow he would wake up knowing his day would without question be much worse than this. Also, he’d put off cleaning his knives to spend the evening in Sethennai’s company, and he’d have to do that first thing, which was always a chore. 

But for now he was enjoying the soft glow of Sethennai’s attention, right up until Sethennai put his glass down on the table with a definitive click and stood up.

Tal blinked, tipsy and a little wrong-footed. “Sir?” he asked. He wondered if he’d missed a thread of conversation somewhere. Sethennai’s collarbones were very distracting.

“Just a moment,” Sethennai said breezily, and went to one of the room’s many cabinets, pulling a wooden box from a drawer. It was where he kept his fancy cigars, the kind he smoked when he was anxious or annoyed or, more rarely, in a truly gregarious mood. It was an outsized reward for the job Talasseres had completed, which honestly wasn’t anything special. He could feel his ears perking up, as though something very large and dangerous was standing behind him, teeth bared.

“Would you like one?” Sethennai asked, as if Tal had ever refused anything he offered. Tal nodded, and accepted the cigar Sethennai handed him. Sethennai lit it with a match, a practiced motion, beautiful in the flickering light. Tal honestly preferred this to the wine. His clothes would smell like Sethennai for days.

He smoked for a bit, expecting Sethennai to light his own; instead Sethennai leaned against his desk with his arms crossed and watched Tal, a long considering look. Tal resisted the urge to shiver, or to appear in any way like he’d noticed the subtle shift of the air in the room, the way it made sweat prickle at the back of his neck. He wished Sethennai would say something, some smooth river of conversation Tal could drown himself in. Frankly, he always wanted to hear Sethennai’s voice anyway. But if Sethennai wanted something else than to hear himself talk, there was nothing Tal could do about it. When Tal had come into the study Sethennai’s coat was already tossed carelessly over his desk, and throughout the evening he’d undone his cuffs and rolled up his shirtsleeves, leaving his forearms bare. Tal had given up on not paying attention to that when Sethennai lit the match.

At length, Sethennai pushed off from the desk and settled down beside Tal, who was very proud of himself when he didn’t jump, or scatter ash everywhere, or both. He held out his hand. Tal, too startled to do anything but comply, handed over the cigar and watched Sethennai bring it to his own mouth, and take a deep drag.

They shared the rest of the cigar like that, back and forth. Tal finished his wine too. His mouth was dry. He tried not to look at Sethennai’s lips so hard that he didn’t realize until the cigar was stubbed out that Sethennai was looking at his.

“Come here, Talasseres,” said Sethennai. And Tal turned to him like whatever bullshit people said about flowers and the sun, inching closer, uncertain what the game was. He didn’t like being uncertain around Sethennai; it left too much room for failure.

Sethennai put a hand on his elbow, and Tal stopped breathing.

It was—annoying, and pathetic, that Sethennai could do this to him so easily. Early on, during the first year of his service, Tal had allowed himself to think that it wasn’t on purpose. Not in a kindly way, it was never that with Sethennai, but simply that surely it was beneath his notice, what it did to Tal’s heartbeat when Sethennai looked at him in a particular way. Looked at him at all, really. 

But a few months ago the truth of it had become quite clear to Tal. Nothing was beneath Sethennai’s notice, not really. Sethennai had three attitudes towards anything, as far as Tal could tell: disinterest, amusement, and very, very rarely, a curious and incisive regard. Tal’s horrible crush had the misfortune of falling into the category of _amusement_ , rather than disinterest.

Annoying and pathetic, and yet Tal couldn’t make himself be bothered by it. He couldn’t make himself feel anything but joy when Sethennai looked at him and only him, and occasionally stood too close to him, and now was putting his hand on Tal’s arm. 

He swallowed. He didn’t know what to say, and so desperately wanted not to say the wrong thing that talking felt impossible. His voice might break, and then he’d have to flee the palace, flee Tlaanthothe, and start a new life as—fuck, a shoemonger or something, Sethennai hadn’t buttoned his shirt up all the way and he smelled like roses and smoke and his hand was hot, Tal couldn’t _think_.

Sethennai smiled at him, warm and indulgent. “You’ve done very well,” he said. 

Tal resisted the urge to preen, or mention how much better he’d done than Csorwe would have. “Thank you,” he said, which seemed safe enough. He focused mostly on not bursting into flames when Sethennai’s fingers curled around his upper arm. 

Seduction was an old friend to Tal, the kind of old friend who helped you cheat on your tests in return for favors and drank with you late into the night, telling jokes at anyone and everyone’s expense, but mostly yours. This was the kind of friendship, with defined boundaries of commerce, which Tal found most comfortable.

He was not used to being on this end of it. From—from Sethennai, of all people—

It didn’t feel right. It made him feel queasy and anxious, and when Sethennai dragged his hand from Tal’s arm to his jaw, he felt momentarily certain that he would faint.

This wasn’t even a seduction, anyway; Tal didn’t need to be seduced and they both knew it. Sethennai could snap his fingers and have Tal on his knees anytime he wanted. He swallowed. His ears were quivering, badly. Sethennai tilted his chin up with one finger. Tal met his eyes, hoping that Sethennai wouldn’t see anything too horrible there. Tal had the measure of himself, in most things; he had no idea what he would look like now. He knew what he felt like, and he didn’t need Sethannai seeing that. No one needed to see that.

He had to say _something_ or he really would explode. “It was—it was fun, really. I always enjoy my work.”

“Now, I know _that_ isn’t true,” said Sethennai, conversationally.

“Well,” said Tal, who couldn’t argue with that. He complained often enough about Csorwe tripping all over herself and getting in his way. “It’s good, anyway. The work. It’s good to have something—worthwhile.” And it was worthwhile. It was. Even if all it got him was this, hanging awfully off a precipice. Tal wasn’t a complicated man and he didn’t have any kind of ambition. He wasn’t like Sethannai. He just wanted what he wanted, and if he could have even a little of it—

“It is,” agreed Sethennai, and he curled his hand around Tal’s jaw, thumb under the point of his chin and fingers spread out along his cheek. Tal wanted to kiss him so badly his bones ached with it. He wanted it so much his fucking teeth hurt, which didn’t feel like it should be allowed. “But work is work, at the end of the day. Is there something else you want?”

Had anyone else asked Tal something like that, he would have rolled his eyes so hard his head would ache for days. From Sethennai it was intolerable for entirely different reasons. He tilted his chin up in Sethennai’s grip. He was blushing and he knew it, his fucking ears were twitching and he knew it. Sethennai had a deft hand for cruelty. All Tal could hope for was that he didn’t twist the knife. “Obviously,” he said, nose in the air. It did not come out as levelly as he would have liked.

Sethennai laughed, and it was the good kind of laugh, the one that invited you to share in the joke, even if you didn’t understand it. And then, thank fuck, he tugged Tal in by the jaw and kissed him. 

It was—it was—frankly it was beyond description, which was stupid and insane, because it was just a fucking kiss. Tal had kissed a lot of people, and while none of them were as attractive as Sethennai, or as self-assured, or as magnetic, it was still just a kiss. Lips and tongue, kind of gross if you thought about it too hard, but always nice enough. Tal was a good kisser. He had testimonials. Sethannai kissed him, and it was just a kiss.

Obviously it wasn’t just a kiss. Tal swayed forward, wrapped his arms around Sethennai’s neck without meaning to, and felt a little like he was being devoured. 

Sethennai kissed him, and kissed him again. He put a hand on Tal’s waist and made it clear what he wanted, and then Tal was in his lap. For a moment they just stared at each other. Well, Tal stared. Staring wasn’t the kind of thing Sethennai did; he discerned, he observed, he took stock. He was taking stock of Tal, looking him up and down, quite pleased with himself. Tal, flushed and panting, tried to mind and couldn’t. He liked it, that Sethennai so obviously liked what he had done to him. 

Sethennai pulled him close again and kissed his neck very carefully and precisely, with teeth, and then he tilted Tal’s chin this way and that, inspecting his work. Tal quivered. 

“Good,” said Sethennai, and Tal felt an absurd rush of warmth, as though he’d done anything but sit there and look pretty.

“I think you should take me to bed,” he said, aiming for insouciant and missing it utterly. But Sethennai listened, so it didn’t much matter, and in the morning Tal woke up with quite a few more bruises in quite a few more places, and the way Sethennai looked at them in the morning wasn’t any less arresting.

Sethennai wasn’t the sort of person to laze about in the morning without purpose. He rang for chocolate, and shared a cup with Tal while he dressed, and then he swept off to go back to his political bullshit, leaving Tal with a distracted kiss on the cheek.

Tal had done a lot of things in his life for unfettered access to powerful men’s bedrooms. Left alone in Sethennai’s bed, he slumped back into the pillows and put his face in his hands. His laugh barely sounded like a laugh.

The horrible thing was that Tal wasn’t stupid. Not about this. He knew the moment he woke up what Sethennai had done. Tal had always trailed after him like a puppy waiting to be kicked. He was no better than Csorwe in that regard. What he nursed before last night was a particularly potent and embarrassing crush. 

And then Sethennai had kissed him, and fucked him, and left him curled up in his bed, and in so doing ensured very neatly that Tal would cut off his own fucking balls for him. There’d been a moment when he’d held Tal’s face in his hands and looked him in the eyes, such a piercing look that Tal felt, for a moment, like he was the only thing that mattered. An illusion, obviously, but knowing that didn’t help at all. 

Tal had spent a long time cultivating himself to be cruel and careless and selfish, because that was how you survived when you were an enormous fuck-up; and no amount of any of that could save him from the stupid shit people did once they were in love. And here he was, in love with Belthandros Sethennai, with absolutely no recourse left but to swallow it down somewhere dark and deep, and to pretend it wasn’t true.

**Author's Note:**

> luckydicekirby @ twitter and tumblr, check it out if you want to hear why you should watch the untamed i guess. or talk about horrible elves.


End file.
